el-bagr
New member
Day 1: In.
Actually Night 1. Olivia and I set off from the Route 302 parking lot at sunset on 1/1/06. Having heard nothing about the bypass, we sledded over to the Route 302 bridge and descended to the river. As has been reported elsewhere, the bypass is not a prime sledding route. One pitch in particular -- a steep rock staircase with a serious off-axis slope -- was difficult. There were a number of open water crossings. Elsewhere, we chose to go out onto the solid shore ice foot of the Ammonoosuc River. Overall, it took about 45 minutes to travel this 0.4 mile stretch, which is damn slow sledding for us.
Once on the road, we made good time, choosing to go up the snowmobile trail for the first bit. Compared to the road itself, conditions were less icy. Once we rejoined the Zealand Road, we kept on trucking up to the trailhead. In the darkness, we couldn't see far ahead, which meant I was able to keep Olivia deluded about how steep the road was. ("Come on, it's not bad!")
The concept was four days in the woods with no distractions, which meant we had no idea what time it was when we arrived at the end of the road and the Zealand Trail trailhead. A quick snack break and we were off again.
The Zealand Trail was good fun. None of the water crossings were wide enough that we needed to take off skis or unclip the sleds. We too have a secret fiberglass trace design that lets our sleds follow us flexibly, which is very useful for bashing through rocks and water gaps. We camped once we reached a tributary of the Zealand River just north of the ponds, finding a nice comfy site on deep snow. It snowed 2" while we were skiing that day, and looked like about 2-3" of fresh had fallen before we arrived.
Day 2: In to Whitewall.
After what had seemed like weeks of partying, we needed sleep. We got a late but well-rested start and hauled past the Zealand Hut junction, where we noticed the Paris sled tracks stopped. From here on, we'd be breaking our own sled trail. The first mile beyond the hut is rough sledding, with a number of bad off-axis slopes and tricky "up and over a rough spot" pitches. We arrived at Whitewall, unclipped, and skied around looking for a safe campsite. One of the trip goals was to do some snow study and avalanche assessment, so we chose a campsite that -- while exposed to avalanche risk in theory -- seemed safe given that (1) the snow on Whitewall was only releasing a 1.5" slab over bonded base with aggressive ski-cutting and (2) substantial new snow was not likely. I climbed Whitewall to the ice cliffs and skied down to the moraine pond -- steep, but good styrofoam snow, with minimal sluffing and no slab releases. We then headed a bit south of the open slopes of Whitewall, skied some snow pillow drops, and returned to base.
Day 3: No pigs!
The third morning, we arose early, left our sleds and camp, and skied south. Animal tracks abounded; we counted nine mammal species (plus Homo nopulkus). A highlight was the porcupine tracks complete with belly-quill drag marks.
We stopped for a snack at Thoreau Falls and admired the view of the Bonds. Snow was good in this area, and we bushwhacked around skiing fine but short pillow lines and jumping off boulders. We returned to the Ethan Pond Trail, skied quickly to the Shoal Pond Trail, and headed south again. We explored Shoal Pond and had fast skiing on the ice, though we avoided the open water at the south outlet. (A set of older ski tracks went right into the open water, but our survey of the scene revealed tracks on the other side and no bodies.) We continued south, turning back at Stillwater. The last three miles to Stillwater were rough, with open water drainage in the trail and bountiful "where's the trail?" red spruce sapling growth.
Day 4: Creeking.
Yesterday morning we broke camp, cooked one last breakfast on our scenic table rock, and headed south. Olivia had not seen the hut before, so we unclipped booted up. Those bathrooms are new since I was last there, and are a true luxury -- with all respect and admiration, that's not camping! We went over to the falls, which were nearly totally covered. Wanting to repeat something I'd done one March a number of years ago, I tested the ice and found a reasonable line down the falls, clicked in, and skied Zealand Falls. (There was a skier track before me, but I made my independent evaluation of the safety of the ice.) Again, nice pillow lines. Like the skier before me, I bypassed the main blue icefall on skier's right with a few sideslips.
Back at the sleds, we made great time headed north. The trail flew by. We spent half an hour with an immense beaver at the northernmost pond. Olivia proclaimed that we were doing the "creeking of pulking", descending low-volume snow chutes, dropping off small rocks, and leaving bits of our boats behind on the rocks. For a few of the steeper pitches, we ran them with pulks, unclipped, ran back up, and skied them again. A few more pillow lines (can you tell I like fresh snow?) and some unclipped woods-rambling (note: wear goggles or eye protection when high-speed hobblebush-bashing, even on light touring gear), then back to the sleds. The road went even faster. Less than four hours after leaving the hut, including the beaver break, we reached the bridge... just as the ranger was taking down the last bit of fencing. We thanked her profusely, and didn't mention that I would have half-seriously considered bashing through the fence if it hadn't been down.
A fine trip, all around.
Pictures to follow.
Actually Night 1. Olivia and I set off from the Route 302 parking lot at sunset on 1/1/06. Having heard nothing about the bypass, we sledded over to the Route 302 bridge and descended to the river. As has been reported elsewhere, the bypass is not a prime sledding route. One pitch in particular -- a steep rock staircase with a serious off-axis slope -- was difficult. There were a number of open water crossings. Elsewhere, we chose to go out onto the solid shore ice foot of the Ammonoosuc River. Overall, it took about 45 minutes to travel this 0.4 mile stretch, which is damn slow sledding for us.
Once on the road, we made good time, choosing to go up the snowmobile trail for the first bit. Compared to the road itself, conditions were less icy. Once we rejoined the Zealand Road, we kept on trucking up to the trailhead. In the darkness, we couldn't see far ahead, which meant I was able to keep Olivia deluded about how steep the road was. ("Come on, it's not bad!")
The concept was four days in the woods with no distractions, which meant we had no idea what time it was when we arrived at the end of the road and the Zealand Trail trailhead. A quick snack break and we were off again.
The Zealand Trail was good fun. None of the water crossings were wide enough that we needed to take off skis or unclip the sleds. We too have a secret fiberglass trace design that lets our sleds follow us flexibly, which is very useful for bashing through rocks and water gaps. We camped once we reached a tributary of the Zealand River just north of the ponds, finding a nice comfy site on deep snow. It snowed 2" while we were skiing that day, and looked like about 2-3" of fresh had fallen before we arrived.
Day 2: In to Whitewall.
After what had seemed like weeks of partying, we needed sleep. We got a late but well-rested start and hauled past the Zealand Hut junction, where we noticed the Paris sled tracks stopped. From here on, we'd be breaking our own sled trail. The first mile beyond the hut is rough sledding, with a number of bad off-axis slopes and tricky "up and over a rough spot" pitches. We arrived at Whitewall, unclipped, and skied around looking for a safe campsite. One of the trip goals was to do some snow study and avalanche assessment, so we chose a campsite that -- while exposed to avalanche risk in theory -- seemed safe given that (1) the snow on Whitewall was only releasing a 1.5" slab over bonded base with aggressive ski-cutting and (2) substantial new snow was not likely. I climbed Whitewall to the ice cliffs and skied down to the moraine pond -- steep, but good styrofoam snow, with minimal sluffing and no slab releases. We then headed a bit south of the open slopes of Whitewall, skied some snow pillow drops, and returned to base.
Day 3: No pigs!
The third morning, we arose early, left our sleds and camp, and skied south. Animal tracks abounded; we counted nine mammal species (plus Homo nopulkus). A highlight was the porcupine tracks complete with belly-quill drag marks.
We stopped for a snack at Thoreau Falls and admired the view of the Bonds. Snow was good in this area, and we bushwhacked around skiing fine but short pillow lines and jumping off boulders. We returned to the Ethan Pond Trail, skied quickly to the Shoal Pond Trail, and headed south again. We explored Shoal Pond and had fast skiing on the ice, though we avoided the open water at the south outlet. (A set of older ski tracks went right into the open water, but our survey of the scene revealed tracks on the other side and no bodies.) We continued south, turning back at Stillwater. The last three miles to Stillwater were rough, with open water drainage in the trail and bountiful "where's the trail?" red spruce sapling growth.
Day 4: Creeking.
Yesterday morning we broke camp, cooked one last breakfast on our scenic table rock, and headed south. Olivia had not seen the hut before, so we unclipped booted up. Those bathrooms are new since I was last there, and are a true luxury -- with all respect and admiration, that's not camping! We went over to the falls, which were nearly totally covered. Wanting to repeat something I'd done one March a number of years ago, I tested the ice and found a reasonable line down the falls, clicked in, and skied Zealand Falls. (There was a skier track before me, but I made my independent evaluation of the safety of the ice.) Again, nice pillow lines. Like the skier before me, I bypassed the main blue icefall on skier's right with a few sideslips.
Back at the sleds, we made great time headed north. The trail flew by. We spent half an hour with an immense beaver at the northernmost pond. Olivia proclaimed that we were doing the "creeking of pulking", descending low-volume snow chutes, dropping off small rocks, and leaving bits of our boats behind on the rocks. For a few of the steeper pitches, we ran them with pulks, unclipped, ran back up, and skied them again. A few more pillow lines (can you tell I like fresh snow?) and some unclipped woods-rambling (note: wear goggles or eye protection when high-speed hobblebush-bashing, even on light touring gear), then back to the sleds. The road went even faster. Less than four hours after leaving the hut, including the beaver break, we reached the bridge... just as the ranger was taking down the last bit of fencing. We thanked her profusely, and didn't mention that I would have half-seriously considered bashing through the fence if it hadn't been down.
A fine trip, all around.
Pictures to follow.
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